regarding the transfer of money: now, probably, they are traveling from Krasnoyarsk here.37 Then I wrote again from here that for now two weeks should suffice me here.

As for the idea of you coming here solely in order to request a transfer for me—this is absolutely not worth it. First, I myself will probably obtain permission for a transfer if I set about making inquiries. Second, the village of Tesinsk is hardly better than Shushà.

According to all the preliminary information we gathered earlier, Tes' is considerably worse than Shushà in terms of terrain, hunting, and so forth. Third, a trip here is not such a simple matter—I have already written about this and today am writing about it in even greater detail to Manyasha, who accuses me (jokingly) of "terrible inhospitality." I do not yet have a letter from Tes'38 and, knowing nothing about it, of course will not undertake anything: perhaps they will still have to request a transfer somewhere else if Tes' really turns out to be as bad as we have heard about it.

Shu-shu-shu—the village is not bad. True, it lies in rather barren terrain, but not far away (11/2-2 versts) there is forest, though rather heavily logged. There is no passage to the Yenisei, but the Shush' River flows near the village itself, and then a rather large tributary of the Yenisei not far away (1-11/2 versts), and one will be able to bathe there. On the horizon—the Sayan Mountains or their ridges; some are completely white, and the snow on them hardly ever melts. So, as far as artistic scenery is concerned, there is something worthwhile, and it was not for nothing that I composed verses back in Krasnoyarsk: "In Shushà, at the foot of the Sayan..." but, unfortunately, I composed nothing beyond the first line!

It surprises me that you write not a word about sending me the remaining books. It would be a pity if they have not yet been sent (I wrote about this long ago from Krasnoyarsk*). Now steamboats ought to be reaching Minusa (the water is rising considerably), so the package could be easily transferred here. But then it will be difficult again, because the Yenisei forms masses of shallows, and high water does not last long. Perhaps, however, the books have already been sent?

* See the present volume, p. 28. Ed.

As for my complaints that you write to me rarely—that is all ancient history now, and the matter is explained by the astonishing (for us, unaccustomed as we are) slowness in receiving replies to letters. I wrote this, if I remember correctly, a month or a month and a half ago: which means it referred to those letters you wrote at the end of March! And now I receive letters more frequently than before, and as for letters going lost—I do not think so, because then the loss would have been revealed upon receiving subsequent letters. Apparently, except for the first letter that Anyuta sent to the station, not a single letter has been lost. Here, in the country, one will have to apply oneself even more to correspondence, so it would be better if letters from "Rossiya" came more frequently.

You write: "Anya says that the editorial office's reply she has already read." I did not quite understand this. Did she read the reply, or has the editorial office already managed to read it? Does Anya know any details about the dispute with the editorial office, about the gold prospector's war against it and Co.? has she not heard "the other side," i.e., someone from the editorial office?39 I shall await her letter.

Have you subscribed to a newspaper for me? I sit here without any newspapers at all. In Minusa too it would be necessary, since there is no reading room there.

My regards to Mark. He is somehow not giving any sign of himself at all. I can inform him and Mitya that there is apparently rather good hunting here. Yesterday I rode out about 12 versts and shot at both ducks and snipe. There is much game, but without a dog and especially for such a poor shot as I am, hunting is rather difficult. There are even wild goats, and in the mountains and in the taiga (about 30-40 versts away, where local peasants sometimes go hunting) there are squirrels, sables, bears, and deer.

I regret that I did not take a waterproof cloak. One is necessary here. Would you not send me one in a small package?—otherwise I do not know when I shall get to town again, and whether I shall find anything decent in such a town-village as Minusinsksk. Perhaps also (if there is money) I shall ask Mark to purchase a good revolver: for now, however, I do not yet see the need for it.

Yours, V. U.